


Seducing the Gem

by darling_pet



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Africa, Bickering, Chaptered, Dancing, Escape, F/M, Fans, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, Kidnapping, Maps, Military, Mystery, On the Run, Reader-Insert, Rescue Missions, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sleeping Together, Treasure Hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:55:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22122943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darling_pet/pseuds/darling_pet
Summary: When a mysterious package shows up at your front door, you (a famous Romance novelist) are hurtled from your virtually uneventful life and into one of danger and adventure. In a quest to save your captured friend Caitlin from impending harm, you run into a suave adventurer named Nash who helps you along the way. Or is the charming Nash simply after something in your possession...?Based on the 1984 film Romancing the Stone.
Relationships: Harrison "Nash" Wells & Reader, Harrison "Nash" Wells & You, Harrison "Nash" Wells/Reader, Harrison "Nash" Wells/You
Comments: 18
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

_The altered-human stood before me, looming in the shadows of my apartment. His fists glowed with the light of a thousand suns._

_“I know who you are,” his voice croaked. A shiver ran down my back. Yes, I was only in my lace nighty, but I was by no means cold._

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I feigned innocence. He took calculated steps towards me, and I knew I’d have to act quickly. This guy was not about to try to kill me a second time._

_Luckily, ‘acting quickly’ was something I was exceptional at doing._

_The brusque altered-human grunted, then lunged at me with a fiery fist. Little did he know that wouldn’t do much._

_I saw the punch coming as if it was in slow motion and dodged his attack, watching his hand glide by my head at a turtle’s pace. I let the momentum return to normal before grabbing his wrist and uttering, “You came to the wrong house, pal.”_

_It was easy to flip him; he made a thump on my hardwood floor and groaned at the impact. I took that opportunity to run circles around him so fast that I could feel the electricity coursing through my veins until it culminated into a bolt of lightning in my hand._

_Power up, baby._

_I let the bolt fly, dead straight, until it connected with the altered-human’s chest. He shouted, and the impact of the shot hurtled him out my window to the street below._

_There was a commotion outside - voices of distressed concern. I knew I’d be in some serious shit, and not just because I threw a man out my window._

_I’d be locked up for being an altered-human too._

_There was no time to collect any personal items, just my coat, and I knew my powers wouldn’t work again right away. It always took a while for them to store back up. The sirens already blared, announcing the authorities’ arrival. I climbed out the window of my bedroom and shimmied down the fire escape. Only, in my haste, my bare foot slipped and I lost my hold on the wet metal ladder. I screamed for what I thought would be my final act as a living being._

_But there was suddenly a big, muscular arm wrapped around my nearly naked self. The wind whipped at my face, blowing my hair every which way. It wasn’t until I was safely set on the ground that I finally saw the face of my swinging saviour. But I’d know that touch anywhere._

_My beloved Chase. The one man I trusted. The only real man in this godforsaken city._

_“Aw, did you dress down for me?” he said cheekily, looking my scantily clad body up and down._

_“Shut it, the cops are here,” I replied, trying to hide my blush, “and they’ll be after you too.”_

_“Then we better high-tail it.” Chase summoned his grappling hook into the barrel of his gun. “How ‘bout a kiss for the road?”_

_I pressed up onto the balls of my feet to ghost his lips with mine._

_“How about I save us first, then you kiss me later?” I snatch the device from his hand. “Hold on.”_

  
~

You can’t help but swoon at your desk, fanning your face with your hand. You could write about these two forever! However, you think that this is the perfect cliffhanger ending to your latest fantasy-romance manuscript. It will set up Book Two in the series wonderfully.

“You’ve done it again,” you congratulate yourself on a job well done. It’s been quite the journey in writing this, and of course, you’ve fallen in love with yet another male character you’ve created.

But there’s just something about Chase that makes him your favourite. You think that your readers are really going to like him, fall in love with him as you have.

Deciding you need to celebrate finishing your draft, you make your way to the kitchen in your sweats, hoodie, and fluffy socks. In doing so, you pass the numerous hanging posters of your New York Times bestselling novels and fanart done by fans.

Humming a tune to yourself, you make a beeline for the fridge, and - there it is - the small personal-sized cake you had bought for this moment. You knew you’d finish the book today, and if the happy-cliffhanger-ever-after ending wasn’t something to look forward to, the cake definitely was.

Maybe you’ll bust out the hot chocolate too.

And perhaps some Bailey’s to go with it. And a bubble bath? Oh, tonight was going to be fabulous!

It’s just you living alone in your apartment, along with all the characters you’d created, residing in your head and begging to have their stories told on paper. You didn’t win the Romance Writer of the Year Award for being a slacker. You didn’t have time for anything else. You didn’t have time for _anyone_ else, or so you continuously tell yourself. However, if a handsome and dashing man like Chase were ever to enter your life, who knows?

What would it be like to be swooped in on and saved like that? What would it be like to save him in return? Alas, you think, you will never find out. You live a virtually uneventful life. You don’t have fictitious altered-human powers (though you wished you did), there’s no one chasing you or wanting to kill you. Likewise, there was no significant-other on the horizon, and now you feared that no one would ever compare to the fictional man you’d created for your latest novel.

These novels are your only means of romance and fantastic adventures. You _live_ in your own creations. It’s an escape - An opportunity to live something so impossible.

Curling up on the couch, you sip your spiked hot cocoa and shovel spoonfuls of the delicious cake in your mouth.

“Here’s to you, Chase,” you toast the imaginary hero in your life.

***

You wake up to an incessant vibration. And while that may sound like a fun way to wake up, it’s just your phone.

 _Ew, someone’s_ calling _me._

You give a quick stretch from your position on the couch where you’d fallen asleep last night before answering the call.

 _Strange… it’s an Unknown Caller_.

Normally, you’d leave it. After all, as you like to say, “If it’s important, they’ll leave a message.” But today, you think, _why not?_ You’re still on cloud nine from finishing your book.

“Hello?” you answer. There’s no reply, but the call still hasn’t dropped. Someone is still there. “Hello?” you try again.

Whoever it is on the other line ends the call, and you’re left incredibly confused. It’s too early in the morning for this-

_Oh, shit!_

You just remember you have a meeting with your publisher this morning! _Shit!_ You throw your blanket off of you and dash to your bedroom to make yourself at least semi-professional looking. You think you manage to pull it off, too, but you know you won’t look half as gorgeous as Mrs. West-Allen.

As you scoop up your manuscript and take one step out the door, you see a small package that must have been delivered recently. What shocks you most is the name of the sender.

Ronald Raymond.

But that’s impossible. Ronnie, Caitlin’s fiancé, he’s dead…

You shove it back inside your apartment with your foot. That weirdness can wait, you’ve got a book to sell. _Ahh!_

It’s a brisk nearly-winter day in Central City. The snow hasn’t begun to fall quite yet, but you’re anticipating it. _I wonder what it would be like to write about Chase and his adventures in the snow. Imagine being cozied up next to him in an abandoned cabin with a fireplace and a bearskin rug-_

Okay, you are so going to write these thoughts down when you get the next chance. It could be fodder for the sequel!

By the time you make it to Jitters, Iris West-Allen is heading to sit down in one of the large comfy leather chairs in the middle of the cafe with two coffees. You sigh in relief that she’d only just arrived too.

“Hey, you!” she greets you. “There’s my favourite author!”

“Iris, hi,” you take the coffee she offers and you both air kiss each other’s cheeks.

“Is that the manuscript?” Your publisher points to the massive tome of printed-out pages under your shoulder.

“It most certainly is!”

Iris claps her hands together once. “I’m so excited to read it. Now sit, sit. We have lots to discuss.”

Over the next forty-five minutes, you both discuss the book itself, new book tour information starting in the new year, and everything in between. At one point, the conversation takes a turn when your friend and boss starts pointing out various men around the café. She’s always been keen to set you up with someone, as you have been incredibly single for a very long time now.

You wish she wouldn’t, though.

“What about that guy?” she points out a man at the order counter, but adds, “No, never mind. Too bland.” She eyeballs the room looking for eligible bachelors.

“Too gross.”

“Too desperate.”

“Too hipster.”

“Too happy.”

You laugh. “Iris, your husband is actual sunshine, remember?”

“Well, what about _him_ , hmm?” Iris motions with her eyes off to the side - a man with a too-perfect coiff and a shit-eating grin. He winks at you.

You internally cringe. “ _No_ , no, it’s just, he’s not…”

“What? He’s not _Chase Hutton_? Come on, (Y/N).”

“I know, but Iris, I believe there’s someone amazing out there for me. I don’t know where, and I don’t know how, but I’ll find him. And he’s not _that guy._ Why do you have to bring this up all the time?”

Iris places a hand on yours. “Because I can’t stand seeing you lonely and waiting for someone who’s not real.”

“One - being lonely and being alone are two different things. And two - I’m not waiting for someone who’s not real. Here-” you slide the manuscript across the coffee table to her. “Read it and swoon. I did. Hundreds of times.”

Iris gives you a look.

“Let me know what you think,” you add, standing up and getting ready to leave.

“You’re leaving already?” she asks. “Stay, I’ll get you another coffee. I’m ordering you to. I’m your boss.”

“I can’t.”

“Listen, I’m sorry for that, (Y/N). I didn’t mean anything by what I said or for making you come out here. I just want you to get out, you know? You’ve worked so hard and are doing amazing work, and I know you’re still worried about Caitlin. Because I sure as hell am.”

“Yeah, it’s weird,” you muse at the mention of your mutual friend, “I thought she’d still need me to talk to about everything, but maybe she needs some space? I’m pretty sure she’s still in Africa doing Doctors Without Borders because I haven’t heard otherwise.”

Iris seems like she’s debating on saying something.

“Did they ever find her husband’s body?” she whispers.

“Ronnie? No, but no one could have survived such an explosion... But you know what’s even weirder? I got a package from Ronnie. _Today_. Which is totally impossible, though depending on when it was sent… I don’t know. It was just really strange.”

“Wow, yeah. God, I hope Caitlin’s okay. Can you imagine having your husband blown up? You’ll keep me posted if you hear anything?”

“Yeah… but yes, I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

***

Fishing out your keys from your coat, you can’t help but think about everything Iris said. How could she think you were lonely? You are a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man (but would like one very much, maybe)! But he can’t just be any man. He’s got to be brave, and he’s got to be strong, and yup, now you’re singing Bonnie Tyler in your head.

You turn the key in the door, but it’s already unlocked. _I did lock it when I left, didn’t I?_

It only takes you a few steps inside before you see it all.

Your entire apartment has been completely and utterly _destroyed._

Furniture flipped, cushions ripped, bookshelves fallen and books scattered everywhere, glass broken. There’s so much going on in this picture that you almost can’t believe this has happened to you.

You bring a shaky hand up to your mouth. It’s nearly impossible to catch your breath because it’s been stolen from you out of fear. As you survey the wreckage, you give a jolt when your phone rings and vibrates in your pocket.

_Damn phone calls, Jesus Christ!_

“Hello?” you answer, eyes still fixed on the disaster.

“(Y/N), it’s Caitlin.”

_Why is she calling me now, all of a sudden? It’s been forever._

“Caitlin?”

“(Y/N), I need you to listen to me.”

There’s a quiver in her voice, which is very unlike the Caitlin Snow Ph.D. you know and love.

“Cait, what’s going on?” you press.

“I’m in trouble,” she replies slowly. “Did you happen to receive a package from Ronnie? A small, brown package?”

“Yes,” you draw out the word, “Why, what is it?”

“Oh, thank God. Inside is a sort of GPS beacon for a kind of treasure? I don’t know anything about it, but that’s what these men are telling me. I need you to bring that device here to me in the Congo as soon as possible-”

“Caitlin, the _Congo_? My God, what kind of trouble are you in?”

“Please, just- I _need_ you to go to the Pullman Kinshasa Grand Hotel. When you arrive there, call this number-” Your friend rattles off a series of numbers. “But listen, you cannot tell anyone. They said they’d kill me if you alert anyone.”

This is all too much, too fast. It’s almost impossible to comprehend. “I can’t go to the _Congo_! And what men-?” You hear the sound of a weapon firing up. “Okay, okay, okay! I’ll do it, I’ll be there!” You shout into your phone so these men can hear you.

But the line goes dead.


	2. Chapter 2

You never want to travel by air again after this. **  
**

So many cumulative hours on a plane, layovers, and don’t forget that brutal time change. Jet lag is the real bitch, hands down.

You weren’t supposed to tell anyone about what’s happening with Caitlin (and even _you_ don’t know the full extent of it, other than she’s being held for ransom and you have to deliver a weird piece of tech to these criminals?), but you felt an obligation to tell Iris. You were all friends, after all, and she should know. Plus, you figured you should tell your boss before she quite possibly never heard from you again.

Needless to say, she freaked out when you told her the gist.

_“What do you mean Cailtin’s in trouble? And you’re going where?!”_

_“I can’t tell you any more than that, Iris, just please keep this all to yourself!”_

Iris had promised you as much and even saw you to the airport in a flash.

And yes, you may be reaching your final landing, and it may have to do with your def-con one anxiety flaring up, but you’ve had this nagging little feeling that you have constantly been watched throughout your neverending travels. But of course, who wouldn’t feel a certain level of delusion after losing track of how many hours you’ve been awake?

Wearily, you grab your luggage and attempt to follow the signs to where you might find transportation to the hotel. It’s almost like you need to gain your “land-legs” again after flying for so long. And why is there so much yelling from one man? He sounds American, angry and gruff to boot, so you try to stay clear of him and avoid eye contact.

Now, where are the-?

“Oof.” You walk directly into a towering brick of a man who looks like a real-life G.I. Joe action figure.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he apologizes in a familiar accent. Another American. “Are you alright?”

“Oh yes, yes, I’m sorry, I’m not fully with it right now,” you reply awkwardly. “Do you happen to know where the buses or cabs pull up? I need to get to Pullman Kinshasa Grand Hotel. It’s urgent.”

“Ah, the Pullman!” the silver-haired man exclaims happily. “I’m headed there as well. My wife is here on business and I’ve flown in to surprise her. I rented a vehicle, would you be interested in hitching a ride?”

Honestly, it would save your brain and legs a whole lot of trouble otherwise.

“If you don’t mind? That would be absolutely wonderful,” you exhale in relief. “Thank you so much… I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” You offer yours first.

“You can call me Wade,” he tells you with a smile, “now, let’s get you safely out of here.”

***

You don’t remember falling asleep.

Surely, it couldn’t have been for very long. After all, the hotel wasn’t supposed to be too far from the airport. But why did it seem like you were on a jungle road when you should see more buildings…?

Stretching, you yawn and ask, “I wasn’t out long, was I?”

“No, no, not long at all,” Wade replies while keeping his eyes on the road. You continue to look around, feeling the kindling of nerves starting to surface.

“So, uh… how much further until we reach the hotel?”

“Not much longer now.”

A few minutes later and you’re still travelling through the jungle and now the bad feelings are flooding you even though you’re trying your damnedest not to let it show. _Where are we going? Who the hell did I get in a car with?_ Like hell were you going to get taken to a secondary location. You’ve written plenty of those stories before.

“Hey, do you mind pulling over for a minute?” you ask casually. “I didn’t go to the bathroom after landing. It’s pretty urgent.”

“Can’t hold it?” Wade questions you. “Otherwise, you’ll have to just go behind a tree.”

“I’m afraid I can’t wait,” you fake grimace. God, you hope you can get out of whatever this frightening situation is.

“Alright then, be quick,” he says gruffly, but adds overenthusiastically, “luxury awaits!”

You laugh while getting out of the car, and hope it passes for a genuine one.

“You need your backpack with you for this?” Wade comments. Your heart races in fear.

“Oh yeah, well, you know… feminine products.”

After shutting the car door, you plan to make a run for it in five seconds, but the sound of another slammed door echoes along with one of a cocked gun. It’s aimed directly at you.

You’re frozen in place - alone, with an armed man in a jungle with no one else in sight.

_Well, fuck._

“Hand over the bag, Miss (Y/L/N),” Wade orders you. “You have no idea what you have in there.”

Yes, you do. It’s the key to saving Caitlin. You hug your purse closer to your chest.

Also, you don’t recall giving him your last name…

_Who is this man?_

“Hand. It. Over.” Wade takes a step closer, and just when you think you’re about to meet your end, you hear a little _beep beep_ noise. A man on a motorbike approaches and _thank the universe_ there will at least be a witness to your death.

“What’s going on here?” the mystery man asks after stepping off his bike and removing his full-face helmet. You don’t even have time to register the attractive face appear into your vision because a gunshot rings out amongst the trees. The next thing you knew, the tire on Mystery Man’s motorbike lets out a long hiss. The man raises his hands in surrender, but in the blink of an eye, he pulls out his own gun that he must have hidden on his hip under his jacket. He shoots at Wade in retaliation and you hit the ground, crawling to get behind the closest tree or bush.

_Why did a freaking shootout have to happen right in front of me? Why?!_

As one might expect, you were more awake than you’d ever been.

Mystery Man reloads and takes another shot at Wade, who makes a mad dash behind the hood of his car, then manages to hop into the driver’s side. He peels away, barrelling down the jungle road. Only once the sound of the vehicle disappears can you hear the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

It gets even louder when you hear footsteps grow closer to where you’re crouched behind a bush. A face pops around.

“Hi, there,” Mystery Man greets you.

“Hi,” you peep.

“You doing alright?” he asks.

“I’d be better if you put your gun away.” He makes an understanding noise and does so, then offers a hand to help you up. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. The name’s Nash.”

_Whoa, his eyes are insane._ You feel the need to avert your own eyes with the speed in which this Nash guy drew his gun earlier. _They’re the soul-piercing kind._

“I’m (Y/N),” you reply, rustling in your pocket for your phone when he starts to talk again.

“So, I have to ask, what in the hell brings you out _here_ with that guy?”

You check your phone and naturally, there’s no signal. You need to call the hotel, get ahold of Caitlin, _something_.

“Listen,” you say, “I’d rather just try to forget all that. I need you to tell me how to get to Kinshasa. It’s a matter of life and death.”

“Darling,” Nash laughs, “you are hell and gone from Kinshasa! It’s over that way, on the coast.”

_Wait, what?_

“But that man,” you say, unable to comprehend, “Wade, he said…”

“Yeah, I bet he did.” Something on Nash’s arm - a gauntlet or something - beeps and lights up when he takes a step closer to you.

“What was that?” you ask.

“Don’t worry about it. …What else did he tell you?”

You leave out the weirdness about Wade seeming to know who you were and you having that GPS device Ronnie sent you in your purse.

“Please,” you beg, “I need your help.”

“I don’t know h-”

“I will pay you!” you add in desperation.

“It’s just that-”

“Everything I have on me, you’ll get!”

Nash raises an eyebrow in curiosity, then laughs. “Relax, okay?” He rests his hands on your shoulders. You feel the weight and size of them on you. You’re happy Nash is on your side and not Wade’s. “The only issue is that my bike is flat,” he explains. “We’ll have to walk.”

You sigh. “Okay.”

“But I can tell you this: you’re going to regret carrying that backpack through this humid heat for miles. You’ll have to ditch it.”

“But I-!” you protest but stop. _Sometimes it really sucks being a material girl. Thanks, Madonna._ You leave your luggage behind, but you make sure to take your purse and strap it over your shoulder.

“I look forward to getting my hands all over everything on you,” Nash says playfully with a wink.

_How dare he! You are having a crisis! You were just held at gunpoint - now is not the time for trying anything!_

“Listen, buddy,” you tell him, “I don’t know who you think you are but don’t even think about it.” You start walking away from him, but he calls after you.

“Uh, Princess? Kinshasa’s this way.”

You spin around and shoot him a death glare. That treacherous eyebrow makes a reappearance.

“You know what you are? You’re a cocky bastard!” you exclaim before walking past him on the correct path to Kinshasa.

He laughs again. Damn him having a beautiful laugh, too.


	3. Chapter 3

You’ve been walking tirelessly for hours along the road from which you’d come, and at this very moment, your true enemy is the incline of the path. The Congolese rainforest seems to grow larger around you, and under different circumstances, you would be admiring its beauty. What’s presently stopping you is the tightness in your chest, dry mouth, and screaming feet.

“Tired, Princess?” the adventurer Nash calls over his shoulder.

You readjust the strap of your purse onto your shoulder and breathlessly huff, “ _No_.”

Nash laughs. “It’s okay to admit it.”

“I’m not tired,” you insist, then sigh quietly. Maybe you should just relax. It’s all fine. He’s taking you to Kinshasa, you’ll find Caitlin and hand over Ronnie’s device to her captors. It’s going to be okay. You might as well try to get back on the right foot with this guy.

“Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?” you ask genuinely. “I feel like I should know something about the person who’s taking me back to civilization.”

Nash slows down his pace until you’re walking next to him. “I’m a Multiversal explorer with expertise in thermic excavation.”

You scrunch up your face a little. “What does that even mean?”

“I’d rather not get into it. Some of it’s top secret.” Nash gives you a flirty eyebrow raise.

“Top secret, eh? Well, now I really want to know.” You feel a wet drop fall onto your nose. Holding out your hand, you test to feel the rain. _Of course it’s going to rain._

“You’d have to beat it out of me,” Nash tells you. “But what about yourself? What’s a beautiful lady yet mildly oblivious-as-to-getting-into-vehicles-with-strangers like yourself doing here?”

“Is that a roundabout way of saying I’m stupid?” you check.

Nash gasps. “I would never.”

You shake your head. “I’m a romance novelist. And I’m only here to save my friend. She’s in huge trouble and it’s down to me to get her out of it.”

“ _Romance_ novelist?”

“That was your takeaway? Not the friend-in-danger thing?”

“So what, do you write really corny, sappy, cheesy romance or the hardcore, explicit stuff?”

You scoff at the way he said that, as if writing Romance was less than.

“I’ll have you know, I’m an award-winning author!”

“You didn’t answer my question… I bet it’s the corny stuff.”

You make a series of exasperated noises and Nash is back to laughing at how riled up you get at his teasing. The now heavy rain is not helping your mood.

“Let me guess,” he continues, “the handsome leading man swoops in at the last minute and takes the beautiful heroine in his arms.” Nash says all this dramatically with emphatic gestures. “Her bosom _heaves_ and then _…_ ”

And then you see a light go off in his eyes when he turns to face you.

“There’s a passionate kiss in the rain?” It’s almost like he’s making a suggestion.

“You _wiiii-_ ”

What you hadn’t realized was that you had been walking too close to the edge of the inclined road. And with so much rain, well, the path was bound to give way.

Everything is dirt, and rain, and mud - and it goes _everywhere_ on your horrific slide down the steep hill. Amidst your screams, you hear a distant “ _Hang on_!” from above. After what feels like falling forever, you slide comically on your rear to a halt. Resting back on your forearms, you look up to the sky, which is actually a cover of treetops. The rain doesn’t seem to be able to reach you down here due to the thick canopy.

The sound of “woohoo!”s grow louder from above as Nash confidently slides down the mud trail on his feet you had left behind. Though, when he reaches you the bottom, something goes awry in his landing. It’s an indecent accident - an ungraceful, face-first dive between your legs, stomach in the mud. Your eyes feel like they’re bulging out of your drenched head. Nash lifts his own head up and wears a shit-eating grin.

“Oh man!” he shouts. “That was incredible! This is turning out to be one hell of a day, am I right?!”

You simply stare back at him, still there, hovering with his face so close to your-

“Are you alright? That was one impressive fall,” he says.

You nod with a squeak, still in shock that you continue to breathe and aren’t dead from that “impressive fall.”

“Good! Welcome to Africa, Princess!”

The very second his nickname for you leaves his mouth, a speeding bullet flies past your heads.

“Shit!” Nash yells and scrambles to get both himself and you up out of the mud hole. Squinting up, you spot the familiar face amongst a team of army men.

Wade.

 _Oh God! Why?!_ You feel like throwing up. Nash spots the scary bastard as well.

“What the hell do they want? I haven’t done anything… lately, that is!” His hand has a vice grip on yours as he pulls you further into the brush to flee Wade and his apparent reinforcements. You nearly trip over the vines on the ground and have to bat away the gargantuan plant leaves, but Nash’s hand never leaves yours.

“Wait,” the explorer voices, and to your horror stops running and drops your hand, letting you bump into him, “he’s after _you_! Who the hell are you?”

“I’m just a novelist from Central City!” you stammer. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m here to save my friend, okay?!”

“There they are!” comes an authoritative voice from behind you, getting closer. They’ve made it down the muddy slope.

You grab Nash’s hand once more and yell, “Now let’s get the fuck out of here!”

“I don’t know if helping you is worth it anymore!” Nash shouts, yet somehow unable to keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Oh, shut up and run!”

Fear and adrenaline propel you forward. Never once do you look back to check to see how far the goons are behind you. Nash busts out a machete attached at his hip and proceeds to slash at the massive plants in your way.

“What, did you wake up this morning and say, ‘today, I’m gonna ruin a man’s life!’?”

“Oh yeah, in fact, that’s my first thought every morning!” you yell sarcastically in reply.

You’re so caught up in your banter with the infuriating explorer that you both nearly fall off a cliff hiding behind the final pieces of plants in your way. Nash grips your forearm so that you don’t topple over down the chasm.

“Shit,” he curses and prepares himself by facing the advancing pursuers. “Just stay right behind me.”

 _Yeah, like hell_. While he switches out his blade for the gun, you survey the area behind you and spot a bridge - if one could even call it a bridge. Keeping away from the cliff’s edge as best you can, you make it to the rickety-looking structure. _Good God, am I crazy?_ At this point, attempting to cross a chasm sounds a lot better than getting shot to death by G.I. Wade and his men.

You set one foot on the swaying bridge. This thing does not look like it can hold the rest of your body’s full weight. It creaks with every bit more you add to the wooden plank. With two feet now, you’re suspended over what feels like a bottomless pit.

Inch by inch, you make your way across, holding onto the rope - _string_ \- because your life really did depend on it. So far, so goo-

“Ahhhhhh!”

A plank cracks in half and falls almost in slow motion down until you can’t see it anymore. You never hear an echo of it hitting the bottom. Gripping the rope for dear life, you wheeze in fright.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Nash hollers after finally noticing you’d left his side.

“FLEEING, WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE?!” you shout back, voice cracking atrociously.

_Where is that snapping noise coming fro-?_

“Nonononooooo!”

You reach for the fraying rope on its last strand and hang tight. The second it snaps, you squeal in terror as the momentum of falling propels you in a forward swoop.

_I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die!_

But when massive plant leaves slap your face and your ass hits the glorious ground, you take a second, patting the rainforest floor to see if it’s real.

_I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive!_

That’s when the hysterical laughter sets in. This seriously is one hell of a day.

More gunshots ring out from the other side and you scramble to peer through the bushes to find Nash. He’s running towards the bridge, but how will he…?

The charming man pulls out what looks like a gun, but when he fires it in your general direction, it’s apparent that it’s not shooting bullets.

 _Holy shit, is that a grappling hook gun?_ The hook catches on a tree branch and Nash swings over to your side effortlessly. His boots clunk onto the ground during his landing.

His highly impressive landing.

The man recalls the hook into his gun and exhales, “Well, that was-”

“-Hey-!” Another bullet whizzes close past his ear and in a split second, he dives forward to dodge the next several shots. Though, in doing so, Nash lands on top of you. Again.

His heavy breath fans your face, and while you are about to yell at him again, he presses a finger to his lips to signal to stay silent. All that hangs in the air are the voices from across the ravine, caws of the foreign birds, and both of you trying not to breathe so hard. The weight of his body on top of yours is all you can think about right now, even when it should be thoughts of survival.

His sparkling blue eyes meet yours.

You swallow hard.

“Let’s move out!” the sound of Wade’s voice echoes across the ravine. They’ll probably try to find a way around to get to you.

Soon, it’s quiet again, and Nash is the first to speak.

“We gotta stop meeting like this.”

You roll your eyes.

“Ugh!” Pushing him off, you get up and brush yourself off. Nash holsters his grappling hook, and in an effort to change the topic, you offer up a tidbit.

“You know, I wrote a character who uses one of those.”

“Is that right?” he says, amused.

“Yes, except he- _OW!”_

Nash’s face twists in concern. “What is it?” he asks. It was the moment you took a step forward and put pressure on your leg that you realize there’s a gash down it. Nash’s machete has been pressed against you when he fell on you. Blood soaks through your jeans.

“Oh my- shit, Princess, I’m so fucking sorry.”

You grimace again and suck in a breath through your teeth. Tears prick your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall.

“Sit down a second,” he tells you.

“No, I can-”

“(Y/N).” 

Your name, instead of the nickname, makes you stop. He searches your face. “No one is hot on our trail now. We have time. Let me fix this.”

“Okay,” you say quietly. Nash then takes out a pocket knife, a much smaller blade and shows it to you.

“I’m going to have to cut around your jeans to get to the wound, alright?”

You nod. He does as he explained, and executes it expertly as if he’s done this sort of thing countless times before. Then he shucks off his jacket and lifts his shirt up over his head, showing off a sliver of defined midsection until his undershirt falls back down to cover the impressive muscles.

_Umm…?_

The sound of fabric ripping shakes you back from your daze. Nash crouches down to tie his shirt firmly around your leg wound. You hiss at the contact and bite your lip. After he’s finished, Nash stands up again.

“There,” he says, voice softer than it usually is, “that will help... For now.”

“Thanks.” 

He shrugs on his jacket again and opens his arms as he nears you. You hold out a hand to stop him. “Whoa, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going to carry you?” he asks, now unsure thanks to your tone.

“Um, no you’re not. What you’re going to do is hand me that machete.”

Nash raises his eyebrow at you - something you’re thinking is his signature move.

“Okay, okay. Here.” The explorer relinquishes his weapon, and you grasp the hilt, the thing that hurt you in the first place. You’ll show him how fucking tough you are. Romance writers aren’t prissy princesses. This one sure as hell isn’t.

“Lead the way, Princess,” Nash says with a forward gesture, to which you start limping. “Due west.”


	4. Chapter 4

This has got to be the longest day of your life.

After trekking further through the Congolese rainforest with Nash, you eventually come to something you never thought you’d be thrilled to see - an old, rusty, deserted Volkswagen van. You don’t care how it got to be here, but it must mean you’re at least somewhere close to a road. All you can think about is the word _shelter._

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you chant.

It’s gotten near dark out, so you pull out your phone to use the flashlight function to peer inside the old vehicle. _At least my phone is good for_ something _out here._

You wonder if it’s locked. “Is it-?”

When Nash tries the handle, the door slides open, albeit with a bit of force required, and he gives you a relieved smile. “Nope.”

Your partner in all this craziness steps into the vehicle, watching his head as he does, and whistles.

“Well, look what we have here.”

“What?”

When you hop inside, an unopened emergency blanket pack slaps you in the face. You gasp out of relief.

“Now,” Nash starts, “I don’t mean to get you out of your clothes, but-”

“-Yeah, I’m so sure,” you scoff.

“We’re going to have to strip,” he explains. “Our clothes are drenched and we’d likely catch our death if we slept in them.”

“You do have a point.” You take the hem of your shirt and begin to lift it off of you, except Nash is still watching you. “Hey, ever hear of something called _privacy_?”

“Sorry, _Princess_.” Nash animatedly places his hands over his eyes and turns around. “Happy?”

“Oh yes, I am simply delighted!” you joke, removing your shirt. “So happy to be getting half-naked in a decrepit van in the middle of a rainforest with a stranger!”

“Yeah, but at least he’s a handsome stranger,” he quips. When you don’t reply, Nash hums a little laugh, then starts taking off his jacket. You quickly turn around yourself, assuming he’s about to undress as well.

“So, are you going to tell me about this friend of yours?” he asks you. “Who is she? ...or he?” After a struggle in taking your jeans off, you wrap the silver metallic blanket around you, making sure to cover yourself.

“ _She_. And I did already.” There’s a pause, and when you don’t hear the sounds of his clothes coming off, you wonder if he somehow left the van without you hearing. But after you’ve finished draping your wet clothes on the back of the driver’s seat, you turn slightly. Nash is right behind you, wrapped in his own blanket - _barely_ \- and leaving not much at all to the imagination.

_Eyes up._

“My friend- her husband died… and I’ve come over here to comfort her.”

Nash frowns at you. “I distinctly remember you telling me your friend was in danger? ‘Life and death’ situation? Hmm?”

A section of his bare chest is visible from underneath the blanket. And God, look at those thighs.

_Stop looking!_

“Oh, um, well that too, of course. Are you hungry? I think I have...”

You would give anything to stop staring at him right now, so you make the excuse to grab your purse on the van’s floor in search of a granola bar you’d packed. However, in all your almighty grace, you stumble. And when you reach for your bag, out rolls the device that got you into this stupid mess in the first place. It rolls until it hits Nash’s foot. The man reaches down for it.

“Wait-!”

He holds it in his hand, examining it. When Nash presses one of the buttons, it lights up and presents a holographic globe with several blinking lights around it. Somehow, the device automatically knows to zone in on where you expect is your current location, complete with a special blinking dot. The weirdest part is that Nash’s tech on his arm starts beeping incredibly fast now, only to short circuit. He coughs and waves the smoke away.

“I think we need to talk,” he says, eyeing you seriously.

You laugh awkwardly and try to make a joke, “‘We need to talk’… that’s never a good thing to hear!” 

He continues to use his stern glare.

“Alright.”

The pair of you sit on the backseat of the van, and when you don’t begin the conversation, Nash gets it going.

“So your friend, what’s her deal? Why is she in danger?”

“Okay, well, she’s been abducted and now these guys are holding her for ransom. They want this- this _thing_ , this GPS for some reason, so I guess we’re going to make a trade when I finally get to Kinshasa.”

Nash plays with it in his hand again and makes the hologram globe appear once more.

“Have you played around with this thing much?” he asks.

“No.”

The man beside you tries something, as if an instinct takes over with this foreign device, by tapping on one of the three-dimensional blinking lights.

“That’s us,” he points to the yellow light, “Those are our coordinates.”

“Then what’s this one?” You tap on a second, red light nearest to where you are on the map, just a little south. It gives you the coordinates to a new dot.

Nash rubs his face with a hand. “It would seem that this device is programmed to lead the user to a sort of treasure,” he explains slowly. “Kind of like my fried gauntlet here. That’s exactly where I was heading to today. That red dot there. But why do you have something like this?” It sounds like he’s wondering this more to himself than posing the question to you. You think you hear him mumble, “This could help me find what I’m looking for...” But you aren’t sure.

“I’m sorry, but I honestly couldn’t care less about treasure right now,” you say, fixing the blanket around your shoulders. “The kidnappers want _this_ device, and like hell am I going to do anything other than exchange it for Caitlin’s life.”

Nash shifts to face you more straight on. “Or, if you follow this GPS, you could find the treasure and use it as leverage over these assholes.”

You laugh. “And you’re not just saying that as a ploy to make you seem like a hero, then steal this or the treasure right out from under my nose?”

“I never said I was a hero to begin with,” Nash points out, “but I’m sure as hell not a scumbag enough to do that.”

“I’ve only just met you. How am I to know that?”

“Would it help if I told you more about myself?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know. I mean, I guess?”

The adventurer clears his throat and looks you directly in the eyes. He wants you to believe him. He wants you to trust him.

“My name is Doctor Harrison Nash Wells. I am a scientist and have a doctorate in geological science and archeology, among other practices. I’ve left the confines of my lab back home, but I’ve done it to search for various scientific or ‘supernatural’ anomalies and artifacts that pop up around the world,” he explains. “And one day, I’m going to have the means to go to other worlds.”

“Shut up,” you exclaim, “there’s no such thing as other worlds!” Nash just gives you a pointed look. “If you say so.”

_Could there really be other worlds? Or is Nash pulling your leg?_

“Why are you out here in Africa?” you ask. “What was it you’re looking for here?”

“Recently, my team and I have been working on experimental stuff regarding dreams. There’s a myth of a gemstone that lives in this area which gives a sleeper hallucinogenic nightmares. I want to find this stone, examine it, and test it. But it’s proving more difficult to find it right now because my tech has been on the fritz today. My tech engineer - my colleague - he built this.” Nash motions to his now busted gauntlet. “He passed away not too long before I left on this mission, and I’ve never found anyone to replace him. Though no one could _ever_ replace him. Martin was working on such great stuff for us…”

You sense behind his steely exterior that Nash is hurting inside. You tentatively rest a hand on his shoulder, but the crinkling noise of the blanket startles you and you recoil. Maybe you should change the subject.

“Where else have you been?”

“Oh wow, let’s see. Japan, Columbia, India, Vietnam, countless others, of course. Work takes me all over. But like I said, one day I hope to see those other worlds, too. To finish what Martin was working on.”

_He actually does believe in other worlds._

Whether it’s from the rather inconceivable thought alone, or from the chill you feel biting at you (probably the latter), you shiver involuntarily, watching the goosebumps ripple across your skin.

“You’re cold,” Nash notices, “Move closer.”

You swallow, feeling a rush of nervousness as he opens his blanket up to reveal his nearly naked self. When you hesitate, he says calmly, “It’s purely for the body heat, I promise, Princess.”

He sounds and appears genuine in saying this. _Maybe he’s not a complete bastard after all..._

Scooting closer to him on the van’s makeshift seat-bed, Nash wraps the blanket around you as if it were a bird’s wing. Apparently, the way you’re sitting isn’t correct, because he grunts, “ _Here_ ,” and maneuvers you so that your legs are outstretched across his lap. It’s so dark now, and you’re almost glad he probably isn’t able to see how flushed your face is, but maybe he can feel how hot it is against his chest where it rests.

“Thanks,” you murmur. _He’s so warm._

Your heart is racing. Why is your heart racing? Is it because you’re being held by a man, to whom you’re in such close proximity (and being nearly naked to boot)? A man who you’re recognizing is as adventurous and witty as Chase - the fictional character you dreamt up? What’s real and what’s fiction? You don’t know how to feel.

_Surely it’s still the adrenaline from the day. It should all pass by morning._

When no one speaks for longer than you can bear in this new position, you break the silence by clearing your throat.

“What will you do after you find the stone?” you ask. “Will you go back to your lab? Will you always be out exploring and searching? Don’t you ever... want to settle down someday?”

“Wow, hard-hitting questions for someone I’ve just met today!” Nash nudges you playfully. “Yeah, I’ll go back and examine the specimen. Use it to help people somehow, answer unanswered questions. Debunk the myths behind it. As for settling down… maybe one day. But today is not that day.”

“So you haven’t anyone back home waiting for you?” The question tumbles out of your mouth.

“What, are you interested?” Nash pokes your side.

“It was just a question!” you insist. He laughs.

“No. No one back home.” Nash sighs and stretches his arms out and above him to place behind his head, muscles flexing. You need to reprimand yourself to keep your tongue in your mouth. “No woman could tie me down, anyway.” This came out a little too forced. _It would be the biggest plot twist if this guy was actually a hopeless romantic!_

The thought makes you giggle, but that turns into a huge yawn.

“We should get some sleep,” he mentions softly.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

You both situate yourselves on the backseat-bed and end up facing each other under your blankets. It feels like fire when your legs rub up against his, bodies pressing together in such close quarters. You’re too afraid to talk for fear of what your voice would sound like right now. All you know is that your breaths combining between the two of you is already keeping you so warm.

You close your eyes.

“You were amazing today,” you hear him whisper. The corners of your mouth turn up in the darkness.

“I know…”


	5. Chapter 5

It’s the cacophony of birds squawking that stirs you from your sleep. Your eyes flutter open to find your head tucked under Nash’s chin. His hand rests on your waist as he continues to sleep.

You feel your eyes go very round.

Immediately, you start to move away from him and stand up, letting your blanket fall away, and start towards your hanging clothes. You hear a rustling, followed by a hum.

“Now that’s what I call a view.”

You laugh awkwardly. “Be quiet.”

Nash smiles to himself. “Hand me my stuff, would you?”

Collecting his now dry clothes, you chuck them at Nash where he sits, then dress yourself without making eye contact with the man. You can’t step into the legs of your jeans fast enough, and nearly fall over. In bracing yourself on the van’s door, you spot something outside.

“Oh my goodness…” you breathe. There is a tiny baby gorilla making its sweet, adorable way towards the van. A little noise leaves your mouth, signalling how cute you think the little creature is. “I just want to go out and snuggle him.”

You reach for the door handle, but Nash grabs your hand to stop you.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Wh-?”

You nearly have a heart attack when the biggest, furriest gorilla face pops up in front of your face at the window. You inhale to scream, but nothing comes out. Instead, and without thinking, you clutch the closest thing - Nash’s undershirt - the only thing he’s managed to put back on so far. His hands hold onto your body, wanting you to feel safe just by touch.

It’s impossible to stop staring at the massive creature outside, especially when it locks eyes with you. The gorilla surveys the pair of you inside the van as if questioning whether you pose a threat to its child but must silently declare you harmless. It wanders over to the infant, scoops it up, and scurries off into the trees.

Only when the apes finally disappear do you realize that you and Nash are still holding each other, and you back off. Hiding your face, you fetch your now dry clothes on the back of the seat.

“Well,” he says cheekily, “that was rather _exciting_ , don’t you think?”

“Being held at gunpoint, almost dying on a bridge, or an ape popping up at me in a window… Yeah. That’s gotta be the most _exciting_.”

“We had a moment.”

You scoff.

“Harrison _Nash_ Wells believes in ‘ _moments_ ’? I find that hard to believe.” You finally throw on your shirt and step into your jeans quickly, attempting to look like you’re focusing on the process itself and not still thinking about how he was touching you.

“What, you don’t think I can recognize a moment?” he shoots back.

“I just don’t think you’re that kind of guy. You move too fast to even have moments.”

When you turn around, Nash is right there in your space, staring you down with his piercing blue eyes. His gaze is electrifying - you feel static in your veins.

“Think you have me figured out, do you, Princess?”

“I’ve written characters like you.”

“There’s just one problem,” Nash points out, stepping closer.

“What’s that?”

“I’m not a character. I’m a living-” _Step_. “Breathing-” _Step._ “Man.” _Step._

You swallow, flustered, and don't know where to look - his eyes or his mouth. Instead, you look out the window.

“We better get going.”

  
  


***

The next couple of hours are a bit awkward of a walk. At least, for you it is. Nash carries on with his seemingly inexhaustible amount of confidence.

“Ah, here we go,” he says, looking straight ahead. It almost feels like a mirage, but it couldn’t be more real - a small village.

_Civilization!_

As you both start making your way past people’s homes, you can’t help but notice each place is in the process of being decorated.

“I wonder what’s going on,” you muse while approaching a couple who are stringing lanterns on their porch. “Excuse us? What’s the occasion? Is there a festival going on?”

“Ah, hello!” greets the exuberant man, “My niece is getting married today! This is all for her.”

“Oh, that’s amazing, congratulations!” you say.

“Thank you.” The man eyes up both you and Nash. “You two are not from around here, are you?”

You laugh.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Nash replies, offering a hand. He introduces himself, then you as ‘Princess.’ 

“It’s nice to meet you kind strangers. My name is John, and this is my wife, Mary.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, too,” you reply genuinely. Honestly, it’s just such a relief to come across other normal people - ones who aren’t trying to kill you. “Actually, we’re a little lost. Do you think you help us?”

“We can sure try,” Mary offers. “Where are you looking to go?”

“Kinshasa?”

The couple shares a look.

“That’s a bit of a ways east, dear. Far too long to keep walking. Have you been walking all this time?”

You nod.

“John, what about that old contraption of yours? Could they not take that off your hands?”

“Oh, yes, I suppose I could part with it,” John replies. “I have an old Jeep I was going to sell for parts, but I think you both need it more than I do.”

“Thank you. It’s much appreciated,” Nash says, then points his thumb at you. “I don’t know how much longer she can walk for.”

“Excuse me?” you pipe up. “I can go all night if I have to!”

Nash turns so that only you can see his face, and winks at you. Only then did you hear how that must have sounded. Your cheeks feel on fire now.

“You wouldn’t want to do that,” John points out. “Not safe out there at night.”

“Oh my, and look at your leg, you poor thing!” Mary exclaims. “I will fix that up for you!”

“In fact,” John continues, “if you would like to take a rest from your journey, you may stay with us tonight and we would be happy if you both would join us for the wedding.”

Your eyes light up at the offer. _A wedding? How wonderful!_ Maybe you’ll even take mental notes for a new book during the ceremony! How will the groom look at his bride as she walks down the aisle? And when they cut the cake or the toss of the bouquet?

Just as you say, “Thank you, we’d love to!” Nash answers with, “Oh no, we better get going.”

You share a glance with your companion.

“What about your friend, Princess?” he mutters so only you can hear.

“Nash, maybe I should rest my leg? And like they said, it wouldn’t be safe to head out, especially when we don’t know when we’d get this lucky again out there. Besides, John said he’d lend us his Jeep, so we can leave first thing in the morning.”

Though he drops his shoulders slightly in defeat, he still smiles.

“Yeah. Yeah, alright,” he says.

“Perfect!” Mary says while taking your hands. “We must get you cleaned and clothed! Come with me, dear.” The couple leads you and Nash into their home. It’s quite spacious compared to the other houses along the main strip of the village. You are highly glad for their kind hospitality.

“You look familiar, dear,” Mary says to you, once inside. “I feel like I’ve seen your face be- eeee!”

The squealing woman leaves you standing in the middle of the room as she heads over to her bookshelf. Mary pulls out a book and opens it to the back page, scurrying back to you. You find yourself staring at your author photo and profile.

“You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!” she shouts.

“I am!” You smile at her enthusiasm.

“I am a big, big fan! You are my favourite writer. I have all of your books.”

“Oh my gosh, really? Thank you so much! That means so much to me.”

You can feel Nash’s eyes boring into you without even having to look. And while Mary explains to you why Carter is her favourite male character you’ve written about, you spot Nash plucking one of your six novels from Mary’s bookshelf.

“Just wait until you meet Chase,” you tell her. “He’s in my next book. You’ll just love him too. I know I do.” Nash thumbs through the book in his hands, studying it still.

“I cannot wait!” Mary squeals.

“I’ll send you a copy myself, I promise.”

“You are the sweetest! Now, please dear, follow me. Let’s get you into some new clothes for the ceremony.” You cast a glance over to Nash again, hoping to catch a glimpse of… well, you’re not sure.

The adventurer doesn’t look up from your book.

  
  


***

After having a much-needed shower and letting Mary tend to your leg with a bandage, you step out of the spare bedroom clad in your new friend’s beautiful flowy dress she’s loaned to you for the evening.

“My dear, you look breathtaking! My dress was made for _you_!” Mary coos and rushes to you for a hug. Her enthusiasm and sweetness causes you to break out in a grin. Over her shoulder, you notice John murmur something into Nash’s ear, and Nash, well… he won’t stop staring at you.

_Wait. Since when did Nash change into a tux?_

It actually takes a hell of a lot out of you to pick your mouth up off the floor.

He. Looks. So. Good.

It’s almost ridiculous how good he looks, and now you can’t decide whether he looks better clothed like this or down to barely anything like last night...

“You look… good,” you tell him.

“What, the _New York Times_ bestselling author can only come up with the word ‘good’ to describe me?”

You scoff, watching to see if he is indeed somehow inching closer to you. “Shut up. I meant what I said.”

“I don’t look better than good?”

“You look alright.”

“I feel like we’re going backwards now.”

“Aw, you two act like such an old married couple!” Mary points out, shaking you from your banter. “How long have you been together?”

You blush hard, and immediately regret how you acted with Nash. _We are not a couple. We do not act like a couple. Far from it!_

However, you don’t say any of this aloud. Instead, you laugh a little and say, “I may be a hopeless romantic, Mary, but I’m not that hopeless!” Then nudge Nash in his rib with your elbow as a joke.

The couple laughs along, but when Mary leans over and whispers to John, he nods and makes an agreeable sound.

“Please excuse us,” Mary says to you both, and your hosts proceed to retire to the back room of the house.

“They left us alone on purpose, didn’t they?” you ask Nash.

“Yup.” You find yourselves both shaking your heads at the ridiculousness. It’s not like Nash and you would ever… _No. He’s too- He’s not-_

You don’t even know exactly what to think about him.


	6. Chapter 6

The wedding ceremony was gorgeous. You and Nash sat with John and Mary on the bride’s side of the aisle. And of course, the bride and groom looked so beautiful and in love that it all just made your heart swell.

During the ceremony, you thought that maybe Nash would make fun of you and your enthusiastic reactions to the event, but he said and did nothing whatsoever. He just sat there, next to you, looking dapper in that suit, and even looked like he was enjoying the change of pace.

There was a moment while everyone sat and waited for the bride to arrive to walk down the aisle when you caught Nash looking at you.

“What?” you had asked him. He shook his head.

“Nothing.”

So you let it go.

But now, as you sit with him at an extra table brought in for you both (as the last minute, but very welcome guests), he’s staring at you again while you eat some of the snacks at the reception.

“Okay,” you say, “this is the second time you won’t stop watching me. What gives?”

Nash adjusts in his chair. “I think your writing’s hot.” he confesses.

“Oh, come on.”

“I mean it!” he insists. “I read a bit from Mary’s copy while you were getting ready today. You’re very talented. Your boyfriend should be proud of you.”

Yeah, okay, you see what he not so subtly tried to sneak into that compliment.

“I don’t believe you actually read it,” you tell him, “and don’t think I don’t know what you just did there.”

“You got me,” Nash laughs, holding his hands up in a surrender gesture and throws in a wink. “But you don’t think I’d be into what you write? That’s a little judgemental, don’t you agree?”

“Okay fine, I believe you, _Nash Wells_. Your girlfriend is lucky to have such a well-rounded man.”

Nash grins, knowing exactly what _you_ just did there. He makes direct eye contact with you, shaking his head slowly, deliberately, and raises playful brows. That alone gives you your answer to _that._

“How do you come up with stuff like that?” he leans forward, voice notably softer.

“I don’t know… I guess it just comes to me. It’s like I’m living in another world.”

“Well, I’m glad you don’t, or I would never have met you.” You’re somewhat glad you weren’t hooked up to a heart monitor because it undoubtedly would have shown a momentary flatline, only to kickstart again. You give a little awkward laugh in response.

“I got you something,” Nash adds, pulling something out of the inner pocket of his jacket. In his hand, he reveals a beautiful yet simple star necklace. He must have gone back to the little market area while you were preparing for today. You hadn’t realized you’d taken so long.

“Nash, it’s beautiful. I love it. Can I…?”

“Here, let me.”

He moves around the table as you stand. You sweep your hair away and over your shoulder so that Nash can put the necklace on you easily. You look down, touching and playing with the little silver star that cools your skin.

You can’t stop smiling for some reason.

And when you turn around to face Nash again, it looks like neither can he.

The soft instrumental sounds of a song begins to play, but you hardly register it because the sound of your heartbeat in your ears seems to drown out the music.

“Let’s dance,” Nash suggests suddenly. Panic in the visible form of a hot flush runs down your body.

“Oh no, I’m not a dancer,” you explain.

“Well come on, I’ll teach you.”

“You dance?”

“I do a whole lot more than just dance.” Nash sends yet another wink your way. “Now, come _on_ , Princess!”

The dashing man leads you out onto the dancefloor with the rest of the wedding guests. Evening has fallen, which gives off a beautiful purplish-blue light along with the yellow glow of the lantern decorations. His hand is on your waist, while yours rests on his shoulder. You’ve written a few dance scenes in your career as a writer, so why aren’t you able to apply what you’ve written into real life? It’s awkward at first, but his quiet encouragements makes it all the more natural and fun. At one point, Nash even does a little solo dance, leaving you laughing at the sight.

Perhaps it’s the music. Maybe it’s the adrenaline of the dance. Or maybe it’s Nash himself, but you feel loosened up. Your hips find it easier to sway, and you let your hands move in the air as you dance. Nash finds the perfect moments during your dances to spin and twirl you, rendering you happily dizzy. After he spins you back towards him, he dips you, and you feel suspended in time, with him gazing down at you from above.

Nash brings you upright again, hand pressed against your back, and draws you in close. Your hands wrap around his neck, and your faces are dangerously close. His lips part, and you watch as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Your heart races - more so than when those men with guns were after you. This feels so much more intense.

You glance up to meet his eyes, then back down to his mouth. Leaning in ever so slowly to close the gap between you both, Nash’s lips welcome yours with a soft but wanting reception. Needless to say, you’ve both remained in one spot on the dancefloor while the other guests dance and carry on around you.

Truthfully, it feels like there’s no one else around.

The kiss is initially one of innocence, of exploration of each other. But it only takes mere seconds for the kiss to take a turn for the passionate. Much more _needy_ from both parties.

You pull away from Nash, and you can tell that he’s confused for a second, but when you take his hand and lead him back towards John and Mary’s home, you’re certain he clues in. At the rate this wedding is progressing, no one in the village will be heading home for a very, _very_ long time.

You’ll have the place all to yourselves.

The pair of you stumble around once you make it back inside the house. It’s almost dark, but you both somehow make it into your spare room. The click of the door when it closes makes everything hanging in the air seem so much more real.

You step up onto your toes to continue this fantastic kiss-fest, all the while letting your hands begin to undo his suit jacket and peel it down his arms.

For once in your life, you aren’t taking notes on this situation - what it’s like to undress Nash, what it’s like for him to agonizingly slowly pull the straps of your dress down your skin. Though once you’re finally baring all to him, you are hyper-aware of your body and that this man - practically a stranger - is seeing all of you right now.

He must notice you start to feel insecure, but he tips your chin up so that you can see him when he has this to say.

“Stop, you know you’re beautiful.”

In one exhale, you let your insecurities out and inhale the confidence given by his words. Nash leans down to kiss you again, and you continue to lower yourself onto the bed. It’s like he’s breathing life - adventure, comfort, intimacy, everything you write about but never experience - into you with each kiss. It’s unstoppable, but oh so very welcome.

You settle up by the pillows, and Nash moves to hover over top of you. He looks at you with such seriousness, but with the hint of a smile. One hand cups your face while the other runs up your leg, helping it to bend and hold against his naked side.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks you, possibly waiting for any sign for you to end this.

You nod. “Just kiss me, Nash.”

“Yes, Princess.”

He does as he’s told, meeting your lips again while giving into the lust in the atmosphere by rutting down against you. You whine into his mouth and arch your back, letting your chest press to his. His excitement grows stiffer and you want nothing more than him in this moment.

When Nash starts to play between your legs with two fingers, you let out a moan. You feel like you’re running a mile a minute, the exhilaration of this man touching you is unreal. _Don’t ever stop_ , you think, but keep it to yourself. With his now excessively slick fingers, Nash pushes them deeper inside you, letting his thumb play with your clit. You writhe under him and let your head fall back harder into the pillow.

“You like that?” he asks in a sexy, low tone by your ear. You make a high pitched sound in response, but that doesn’t satisfy him. “Use your words, Princess. I know you know how to use them.” His mouth attacks your neck. It’s funny because when you write, the words are right there, ready for you to use, but right now, it’s nearly impossible to speak when Nash is fuelling you with fire.

He swirls his thumb around your clit again and again to see what you would eventually say. “Yes, yes, I like that, please keep doing what you’re doing.”

Nash hums in laughter in the crook of your neck, grazing his other hand up to cup your breast. Oh God, and when he adds a third finger inside you, you make a noise verging on animalistic. The sound brings Nash to snap his head to look upon you.

_Use your words._

“I need more.”

“As you wish.” This suave adventurer takes hold of himself in his hand and first slicks up his length between your legs. Each stroke across your centre drives you even wilder, making you feel like you want to scream with impatience.

“Fuck, Nash, _please_ ,” you beg.

“Hold on, baby,” he says, and you take his words literally - throwing your arms around him.

At long last, he presses slowly inside, and you gasp at the sensation of him stretching you, accommodating the sheer size of him. The both of you give pleasurable moans at the feeling - him so big, you so tight. It takes forever for Nash to start to move again, but with a gentle roll of his hips, it sends him slowly deeper inside. You bite your lip and let out a shaky breath.

“How do you feel?” he checks. The lust and bliss in his voice are palpable. “Do you want me to-?”

“You can go faster.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod quickly and prepare yourself. Nash doesn’t hesitate at your word, and grunts a bit when your body squeezes around him with each progressively faster thrust. You move along with him, meeting each movement as you chase this feeling with him. You’re on this ride together. You have been from the start.

And now his thumb is back at work again between you. The pads of your fingers dig into his muscular back muscles. It’s like every ounce of the sexual tension since meeting and leading up until this moment has broken through the dam. It’s when your body starts to constrict around him and his stuttered thrusts that you feel your swiftly approaching climax.

“Don’tstopdon’tstop,” you cry repeatedly, unable to see straight.

“Fuck, (Y/N), I’m-”

Your mouth widens into an ‘O’ as you lift off the bed and cry out more affirmations. Nash’s head tips back, and in much the same fashion, opening his perfect pink mouth wide. His eyes shut, and if it’s anything like your experience, he sees the fireworks behind them, too.

In the aftermath of it all, you feel warm and jelly-like, tired and worn, but entirely satisfied by what just happened. Nash pulls out, only to lie down on top of you, surely not his whole weight. Nonetheless, you relish the weight of his body on top of yours. It feels delicious. Your arms wrap around each other. You never want to let go.

In the moments afterwards - after catching your breaths, after returning to Earth - Nash moves a strand of your hair out of the way from your face.

“When I finally have the means to cross dimensions, other earths, I’ll take you with me,” he vows, and you can feel the rumble of his voice inside you. “Just the two of us.”

Then a thought decides to break every fantasy you were having.

“Why haven’t you taken the GPS away from me?” you ask.

Nash just looks at you. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen you playing with it. In the van and on the journey,” you tell him. “I know it’s messed with your gauntlet’s tracking, and if you just took it, you’d find what you were looking for.”

His thumb strokes your cheek once, then twice.

“I _have_ found what I’m looking for…”

“Careful Nash,” you warn, “you’re starting to sound like a romance writer.”

He watches you, and with every part of you, you couldn't tell whether he was playing you.

“I thought about what you said before,” you say, “about having more to bargain with for Caitlin? I think we should go for it.”

“You do?” Nash pulls back to see your face better. “Because seriously, you could walk into Kinshasa with the treasure effectively holding all the cards-”

“-I know. But Nash, if we have to give it up to save Caitlin…”

“I know. We let them have it. It’s the only way to save your friend.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

His lips meet yours again to seal the deal, and you feel yourself quickly slipping away into what you believe to be one of life’s most dangerous emotions. One on which you base your entire writing career. Soon enough, with each kiss, the question of whether to actually trust Nash Wells vanishes from your mind and is replaced with how many more of them you need.


	7. Chapter 7

“We don’t know how we could ever repay you for your kindness,” you tell the lovely couple the next morning on their porch.

“Anything to help,” John replies kindly.

“Just remember to write! I would love to hear from you,” Mary adds happily. “And thank you for signing my book!”

“I will, I promise. And you are  _ so _ welcome.” When you go to hug both of them, you hear a motor rev as Nash appears from around the back of the house in John’s old Jeep. It looks to be in pretty rough shape, but honestly, it’s better than nothing at this point.

“Hop in, Princess,” Nash says with a grin. “Your chariot awaits!”

“Good luck to you both!” the two call out to you once you take a seat in the passenger side of the vehicle. You wave goodbye to them and buckle your seatbelt, but an approaching rumble makes your heart stop beating. You glance into the rearview mirror, then turn all the way around in your seat.

An envoy of trucks drives into the village from the other end - they have to be Wade and his men.  _ Can’t they just disappear already?! _

“Nash,  _ drive _ ,” you order him. “But not too fast. Do it casually. Like you’re not trying to flee an army of men.”

“You got it.”

It must take everything in him not to peel out and press the pedal to the floor, but you imagine Nash has been in stickier situations than this. As you both drive down the road, leaving the village behind, Nash soon picks up speed. You open your bag and retrieve the GPS to turn it on - the little light that shows your location blinks on the holographic map and moves at a swift pace. The further Nash carries on, the closer your dot gets to the stationary one - the treasure. The piece of tech beeps as you approach a rough-looking turn off on the road.

“I think it wants us to turn right,” you note. Nash leans over and peers at the map.

“Right here is the geographical makeup of a waterfall,” he points to a section on the hologram. “I think you’re right. It should be just up here. Good eye, Princess.”

Your heart flutters at his praise. Nash turns the steering wheel sharply to make the right turn, and about half an hour later, you hear the unmistakable roar of water.

“Wow,” you remark, getting out of the car. “What a view.” The streams of water tumble over the cliff above into a deep blue pool, which then flows out to continue downriver. You aren’t sure at first how this can possibly be the right way to the treasure, but when Nash takes your hand to lead the way, you have so much more faith that it’s right.

The pair of you keep close to the rock face, and soon you begin to see a stepping stone path hidden behind the falls.

_ This is so freaking cool. It’s like I’m inside one of my novels! _

The noise of the water is incredibly loud at this point, so when Nash says something to you, you don’t hear him.

“What?!” you shout, but slip on the slick rock underfoot. The adventurer holds tight to your forearms - keeping you up effortlessly. You notice the merriment in his eyes.

“I said, ‘Watch your step,’ Princess!”

Where would you be without him?

Eventually, you reach an opening directly behind the tumbling water that leads into a cave. With the final bit of battery left on your phone (a miracle, really), you use its flashlight again to help you on your way through the dim and damp grotto. Falling droplets of water echo through the small cavern, giving off a slightly eerie effect. Nash holds the device and watches the hologram blink furiously as your yellow dot and the red dot of the supposed treasure converge.

“It says it should be right about… here?” he says, motioning to this dead end.

“A rock wall? But that can’t be right…”

_ We’ve made it all the way here and there’s just A WALL?? _

Groaning loudly, you add in a huff here and there at having come up short after all this trouble. Seriously? After all that you’d been through? You pound the wall against your better judgement. It hurts, to say the least.

But wait.

A piece of rock is loose.

“What’s this?” you look to Nash, then back at the cave wall. After wiggling the rock, you let it fall to the ground and begin digging out the remaining debris within the hole.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you exhale breathlessly.

“What?”

“Digging for treasure.”

“Welcome to my world, Princess,” Nash grins like the sun. There’s a pause where you lock eyes, and in this moment, you couldn’t imagine anything more exhilarating.

“Nash?”

“Yes?”

“You’re the best time I’ve ever had.”

He looks pleasantly taken aback. “I’ve never been anybody’s best time before.”

You both smile, and you return to digging frantically until you feel something soft. Your hand reaches into the back of the hole to pull out... a fabric doll.

“It’s a doll?” he says, wholly confused when you hand it to him to survey. “Someone must have been here before us…”

It takes a moment before a realization hits you. “No, wait. In my fourth book,  _ Off the Coast of Love _ , I hid the treasure inside a decoy object. Here, give it to me.”

“I thought I did,” Nash replies cheekily while nudging your shoulder with his, playing the innuendo card.

You’re suddenly glad it’s dark in here, or else he’d see your flushing face. But, when you take the doll back and rip a seam at its heart - a glowing red aura shines out and turns both your faces the same colour.

It’s the treasure!

_ I did it! _

“It’s amazing,” you admire the shiny, crimson gemstone in your hands.

“It’s beautiful,” Nash agrees but stares at you instead.

“It’s  _ mine _ , now,” comes a third, unexpected voice.

You give a start upon seeing a very large, bald, and scary man standing behind you. You wonder why he feels vaguely familiar to you, but that thought quickly disappears when the man points a gun into the air and shoots actual fire from the barrel.

Then, he points it at you.

“Is there  _ anybody _ who isn’t following you?” Nash asks you, ignoring the frightening flame-wielding man.

“Hand over the rock and no one gets turned into a shish kebab…” the dangerous stranger says in a gruff voice. “Now move it, before Batman comes home! I don’t got all day, and neither does your doctor friend!”

***

You feel defeated and hopeless after this man - Mick Rory, as he introduced himself on the forced return to the Jeep - pockets the ruby red gemstone from you.

“You’ve sent me on a wild goose chase  _ girly _ ,” he claims. “If you just stayed put at the airport and didn’t get in the truck with that General bastard, you’d be on your way home with your feisty lady  _ pal _ .” Mick grabs your arm with no care for your well-being.

“Ow, hey!” you protest.

“Hey, back off, creep, alright?” Nash growls, daring to take a step closer towards this scary-ass criminal. “Keep your hands off her.”

“Oh, I’m the creep? That’s rich, Indiana. At least I’m upfront about what I’m taking. At least  _ I’m _ not trying to seduce the damn gem out from under her.”

_ What did he just say? _

“Wait a second,” you say, “finally deciding to search for the treasure was my idea.”

_ It was, wasn’t it? _

“Ahaha!” Mick laughs with a monotone voice. “Yeah, lady, that’s what all the con artists want you to think! He made you think you needed it! He might actually run well with us Rogues.”

Nash wouldn’t really try to trick you into going after the stone, would he? He said it was “treasure” when he mentioned that was the area where he was initially headed. But Nash was also looking for a magic stone for his research. Wait, did he know the treasure and his stone were the same thing? Was he going to con you out of your bargaining chip for Caitlin by seducing you?

How well do you  _ really _ know this man?

Mick shoves the flamethrower gun into Nash’s back. “Get in the front and  _ drive _ . I’m sick of- oh, shit.”

You follow the crook’s gaze down the road from which you came, and wouldn’t you know it…

“I just can’t catch a break,” you mumble while dragging a hand down your face and proceed to curse wildly in your head. They’ve found you yet again - Wade’s fleet - but how did they know to follow you from the right turn-off? Mick turns to run, fleeing with the gem, surely because there’s no way his face-melting gun could take on this size of this envoy.

“Get in!” you shove Nash out of the way and take control of the driver’s seat. You’re still pissed at him for the possibility of backstabbing you, but your current crisis is more important. You don’t even wait for him to close his passenger side door and peel out to follow Mick further down the road.

“Step on it!” Nash yells. Soon, you’re driving right up next to the thief, and Nash tells you, “Pull up ahead of him a bit. When I say, ‘Now,’ I want you to break hard, got it?”

You nod and do as he said, making sure the Jeep is driving just ahead of Mick, and wait for the magic word.

“ _ Now _ !”

Your foot slams on the break. Nash whips open his door and Mick runs straight into it. You can’t help but make an ‘Oof’ sound at the brutal hit. Your partner jumps out of the car and pins the other man to the ground, wrenching the stone out of his big, monstrous grasp.

“I’ll take  _ that _ ,” he says, then hops back in the vehicle and slaps the side of the door. “Go, go, go!”

You take off at an insane speed through the forest road, but once you reach a certain miles per hour, it’s hardly even noticeable - all a blur.

“Princess, you better slow down,” Nash warns you.

You don’t reply, nor do you take your foot off the accelerator.

“Princess?”

_ Eyes on the road. Don’t listen to him. _

“(Y/N)!  _ Slow _ ! _ Down _ !”

As it happens, you should have indeed listened to Nash. You couldn’t see past your anger and adrenaline, so naturally, you didn’t anticipate the sudden end to the road, and where it was washed out from the rushing river.

You swear repeatedly and brace yourself when the car drives straight into the rapids, water washing over the windshield. The inside of the vehicle is already starting to fill up with water, which causes you to panic.

_ Seatbelt off, open window, escape, escape. _

Your whole body feels as if it’s on autopilot as you try to exit the river-swept car. The second you manage to pull yourself out from the window, the swift current takes hold of you. You’re sure Nash got out too, though you don’t see him. Trying to keep your head above water takes priority.

“Nash!” you shout for the adventurer despite your current confused and angry feelings towards him.

There’s a huge rock up ahead, up and off to the side. You use every amount of power in you to try to reach it, and thank goodness, you do, and cling to it for dear life. Shimmying and clinging, you move sideways, and make it to safety on the river bank.

_ But where’s Nash? _

Had he been swept away? Drowned? Eaten by a river monster?

“Princess!” comes his voice, sounding distant. You search and spot him across from you on the other side of the river. “That was amazing, right?! Woooo!”

You don’t answer, and just stare at him with the bright red stone right there in his hand. Your head is still reeling about Nash. Your heart rate continues to spike through the roof. He must notice your quietness. “Are you okay?” he calls out.

“Oh yeah,” you finally reply, “I’m just  _ FINE _ !”

“From what I know about women, I don’t think that really means you’re fine!”

“Oh, right, because you seduce so many women for a living to get what you want!”

“What the  _ hell _ are you talking about?!” he shouts back.

“You planned this all along, didn’t you?! You tried to get close to me - to have  _ sex _ with me - to use the GPS and take the stone for yourself!”

There’s a pause. Only the sound of rushing water fills the void.

“What’s the name of that hotel in Kinshasa?” he asks.

“Pullman Kinshasa Grand Hotel!” you tell him. “Why do you even care?”

“Just keep heading east, that way, and I’ll be there!” he promises.

“Yeah,  _ sure _ ! While you just disappear forever with the stone! What about Caitlin?!”

“You still have the GPS!” Nash points out.

“Yeah, but  _ you _ have the  _ stone _ ! They’ll  _ know _ !” Your stomach jumps up into your throat at the sound of gunshots.  _ Goddammit! _

Nash hollers something else across the rapids, but you couldn’t quite hear all of it.

“What?!” But by the time you’ve yelled your question, the adventurer has already turned his back to you and sprints in the opposite direction.

Something inside tells you that you’ve just been conned.


	8. Chapter 8

Walking (well, maybe more so _stumbling)_ into the hotel feels surreal _._ You were meant to be here days ago. Poor Caitlin… You just hope she remains unharmed.

The woman at the front desk hands you the key to your room, which you are now thanking your lucky stars you reserved for multiple days just in case. The room itself is the most basic one the hotel has to offer and you have no qualms whatsoever. It’s a thousand times better than a broken down van.

Immediately, you locate the room’s phone and dig out the number Caitlin gave you to call. This is it. You’re getting your friend back.

“Good after _noon_ ,” greets a smug male voice on the other end.

“Is she alright?” you ask desperately. “Have you hurt her?”

“So, you _finally_ made it.” The voice deflects your question. “Took you long enough. Did you bring the GPS?”

“Yes, I brought it, but I want to speak with Caitlin.”

“I’m afraid I can’t arrange that until I get the goods,” the stranger counters. He sounds like a man with a constant smirk. The kind you would love to smack off his face for what he’s done. “ _Now,_ look out the window. You’ll see a _barge_. Meet me there in two hours. And make sure you’re _alone_ , got it?”

You hang up without so much as an “okay.” You are a ball of stress, worry, and anger. Picking up the hotel phone again, you call the front desk downstairs.

“Hi, I’m just wondering if a man named Nash Wells has checked in at all today?” you ask tentatively.

“No, I’m sorry. No one with this name has checked in.”

_Damn._

“Alright, thank you.”

You hang up and speedily clack your fingers on the desk as if that will help rid you of your anxiety. _Great, only two hours to let myself go completely insane. Just what I needed._

~

Night has already begun to fall.

You clutch your bag that holds the holographic map in it a little tighter and wander closer towards the docks. You’re so on edge that any small movement or sound throws you off. The kidnapper didn’t give you any direct address, so it was down to your basic sense of direction at this point.

“Over here,” eventually comes a voice from the shadows - the one from the phone call.

You take a few careful steps forward. “Where are you?”

“Don’t move any closer,” they order you. “Show me the GPS.”

“Let me see Caitlin,” you counter.

At long last, you lay eyes on your friend - Caitlin moves out from around the corner looking unkempt, but unharmed. _What a relief!_

“(Y/N)!”

“Caitlin, it’s going to be okay!” you assure her. Cautiously, you begin to pull out the piece of tech and hold it out in front of you, despite still being unable to see where the man’s voice is coming from.

“Set it down and back away.”

You do as the stranger says. After a beat, he finally reveals himself - a tall man with a buzzcut wearing a trenchcoat. _An odd choice of attire for freaking Africa_. The man moves towards the device, picking it up to inspect it. He presses the power button, which brings up the illuminated hologram map. He studies it.

The man gives you a sideways smile, then shoves Caitlin into you.

“Better late than never, I guess.”

You hold onto Caitlin for dear life in a long-overdue hug.

“Cait,” you cradle the back of her head, then pull away to search her eyes. “They didn’t hurt you, did they? Because I swear-”

“No, I’m okay,” she assures you, “I promise.”

“Good, then let’s get out of here.” The pair of you probably only make it ten steps away from the drop when you stop in your tracks at the sight in front of you.

Nash appears under the warm light of the streetlamp on the corner.

Your breath is positively stolen from you.

“I missed you at the hotel,” Nash says. “I missed you in general.”

He did come for you.

It’s at this moment that armed men emerge from the shadows to force Nash forward with the tip of their guns. He’d been caught… Then, as if the icing on a grotesque cake, Wade steps into view.

“I should have known you’d be at the end of this wild goose chase, Snart,” Wade says, effectively ignoring you for the time being.

“Eiling? Dammit, you let the government follow you here!” Snart pins on you. _Excuse me?_

“Cool it, Ice Man. They already have the gemstone,” Wade informs the criminal. _Shit._ You were hoping to get away without this Snart fellow finding out. A series of growls grow louder as Mick Rory struggles while bound among a pair of additional army men.

“I had it in my hands, Len,” Mick tells his partner. “So beautiful. The colour of _fire…_ And now I feel like a cookout-!”

The pyromaniac fires up his flame-gun but is instantly disarmed. Mick roars in frustration.

Amidst the chaos, Wade turns his narrowed eyes to you. It still feels as if this is all some insane dream or scene you’ve written while drunk on your hot chocolate.

“What is it, Missy?” he asks you. “Got something to share with the class? Where is it?”

Nash squints at you - a signal.

“What, the stone?” you play dumb. “We never found anything. The spot was empty.”

“Nice try. Why don’t we see if our little friend can shake the truth out of you?” Wade and his weapon-toting entourage lead you, Caitlin, Nash, and the Fire and Ice gang into one of the warehouses running parallel with the water. There’s a loud rustling in the darkness, followed by heavy breathing. It isn’t until someone switches on the shoddy lights in the room that you spot it - a cage holding an enormous gorilla and her baby.

The mother ape shakes the metal bars and screams, only to have Wade laugh at her failure. He taunts the poor creatures, and when you show the slightest bit of discomfort, the general pushes you closer and closer to the cage.

The ape roars in your face, or maybe it’s directed at Wade’s, so vehemently that her saliva ends up on your face.

_Remain. Calm._

“Let her go, okay? Enough!” Nash raises his voice. “I have it. I have the stone.”

“Tell me where!” Wade demands, still clutching you forcefully.

“It’s in a safe place.”

“Out with it, Wells!”

The gorilla bellows in her cage once again at the commotion between the humans. Wade cues a gesture to one of his men, who proceeds to hit Nash in the nether region with the butt of his rifle. There’s a _clunk_ sound.

You don’t remember him having a literal… _ahem_ of steel.

Nash tries to recover, but something is off. He shakes his leg and wiggles around a bit as if he’s performing some bizarre dance. But soon enough, you all witness it - the gem falls out the leg of his pants and onto the ground.

The room goes silent.

“I promise I was still extremely happy to see you, Princess,” the adventurer jokes.

You snort loudly, despite the time and place.

And then, all hell breaks loose.

Nash kicks the stone over to an open space for you to launch after it, but Wade beats you to it. With the gleaming red beauty in his hand, all other sides in this battle seem to have lost. But suddenly, the mother gorilla violently grasps the general’s arm and yanks it around, causing him to drop his precious treasure.

Gunshots are everywhere, mostly used as a scare tactic, you decipher. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the baby gorilla manages to squeeze out through the cage’s bars and picks up the stone in his hands. It doesn’t take long for him to take off outside, and you know you can’t just let him get away.

“Nash, hold them off!” you tell your partner, who at once removes a gun tucked away behind him.

“As you wish, Princess!”

You make a break for it, following the ape with Caitlin in tow (she is _not_ leaving your side ever again). He’s a quick little fella, even as he scuttles up the back stairs of the building leading to the roof. By the time you reach the top, you’re a smidge out of breath, but find the animal on the ledge opposite you.

Step by step, you slowly make your way towards him. His tiny black eyes watch you the whole time, that is, until you make it a foot away from him. In which case, they dart behind you. You turn warily, finding that damned bastard Wade, forcing Caitlin and now yourself even closer to the ledge than you’d intended.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” he says pointing his gun at you.

“Or we can do it my way,” you counter as a bluff. _Think fast._

Wade fires a shot into the air. A startled Caitlin slips on the edge in confusion.

“ _NO!_ ” You let out as a horrified yell, watching her fall over the side. However, a speedy swoosh of flames flies downwards at an incredible speed. Caitlin’s screams stop, and you don’t want to look.

_What was that?!_

You aren’t able to question it too long, though, because Wade has you in his terrifying grasp once more.

“Let go of me,” you growl, trying to wrench your arm free. There’s a screech, and the next thing you know, the young gorilla scrambles up your captor’s leg and chomps on his hand.

“Aaarrrghh!” Wade recoils and backs off a safe distance, clutching his wound. “You little shit.” The creature laughs and climbs to sit on your shoulder in a protective action.

A bright glow illuminates from behind - and you scrunch up your eyes to get a better look at what seems to be hovering with Caitlin in its arms. It looks like… a man? A burning man?

This phenomenal being releases your friend with a familiar gentleness. _Oh my God, it can’t be..._

“I thought I killed you!” Wade shouts at the burning man.

“You thought wrong,” he replies.

“I won’t make the same mistake.” He raises his gun, and you can see his finger begin to press the trigger, but a bulldozer of black fur barrels in his direction from the rooftop entrance. Mama Gorilla, in all her loud ferocity, jumps on and disarms Wade. The wild animal shakes him around like a G.I. Joe action figure, and ultimately jumps across to the next building’s roof. And the next. And the next, until eventually they’re both out of sight.

Everyone remains speechless.

The one to break the silence is Nash, who now sprints up the stairs onto the roof, bolting towards you. His hands find your arm and waist.

“Are you okay?” he checks.

“I’m okay. You?”

Nash exhales. “Still here.”

You maybe only have a brief moment to collect your thoughts and relax before Caitlin shrieks, setting you to red alert again. You whip your head in her direction to find the man who was previously in flames splitting into two people.

“Ronnie!” Caitlin exclaims, throwing her arms around her fiancé’s neck. _It really is him…?_

“Ronnie? How are you alive?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Martin?” Nash says warily to the other bespectacled, white-haired man who has seemingly appeared out of thin air. The two hug it out happily.

“It’s all thanks to Professor Stein,” Ronnie explains. “Remember that highly classified internship I took, Cait?” Your friend nods slowly in response, also obviously stunned by this nearly impossible scene. “It was an experiment-

“-Fusion, Ignition, Research Experiment and Science of Transmutation Originating RNA and Molecular Structures,” Martin Stein clarifies for you all.

“And I was a match.”

“But why did you send me the GPS?” you ask him the question that had been eating away at you since the beginning of this whole crazed debacle.

“Because Professor Stein needed to hide it, and the government was already hot on our trail with the F.I.R.E.S.T.O.R.M. experiment, which wasn’t exactly given the go-ahead. But I mean, can you imagine the US military getting their hands on the means to locate highly dangerous gemstones with mystical powers?”

You file that premise away in your mind for potential novel material.

“It hasn’t been the first time the government has stolen my work from me,” Martin adds bitterly.

“But I knew it would be safe with you, (Y/N),” Ronnie continues. “We couldn’t have it falling into the wrong hands.” It’s wild to believe that one piece of mail could change your life forever.

“But Ronnie,” Caitlin speaks up, still verging on joyful tears, “I thought you were dead. They told me you were _dead_.”

“We had to make it seem that way, Caity. I’m so, so sorry.” The couple shares another tender embrace.

“In the meantime, however,” Martin says, turning to Nash, “as we assumed our false demise, Ronald and I nearly finished the Trans-Dimensional Navigation System.”

“You’re… you’re serious?” Nash laughs like he can’t believe his ears. Truly ecstatic. You wonder what this means.

“Yes. We just need the final elemental piece of dark matter found within the gem’s ore for the project to be fully operational. Did you find what you were looking for out here?”

“I found more,” Nash says, turning to you. You blush fiercely. The roof falls quiet.

“Alright… well, we’re all here, we’re all okay,” you confirm. “So- wait. Where’s the little guy? He had the gem last. Where’d he go?”

As if he heard you, the baby gorilla calls out from down below. Each one of you rushes to the building’s edge to peer down - the ape bounces up and down on a boat motoring away. A flash red reflects off the moonlit water. Two sets of men’s laughter fade into the night.

“Quick, go inside him and fly over there!” you tell the fiery duo.

“Oh, Princess, you had to have heard that one,” Nash bumps playfully into your side. The two men attempt their merge, but nothing happens. Ronnie and Martin glance at each other, then try again.

Nothing.

“Why isn’t this working?” Ronnie wonders aloud.

“I’m embarrassed to say I can’t think of a probable theory as to why…” Martin replies. He doesn’t strike you as a man who is often confused. The more time they take to keep attempting to merge, the further the gorilla sails away on the getaway boat.

“I can’t see the boat anymore,” you note at the solid blackness of the water.

“I’ll find him,” Nash announces. He takes you by the waist so suddenly, your hand presses to his chest to steady yourself. “I’ll find him and the stone, and I’ll come back for you.” Your breath is momentarily caught in your throat.

“How can I be sure you will?” You bite your lip, trying not to tie all your hopes to this wild man.

“Because our adventures together are far from over.”

Despite his words, Nash kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you again. Deep, firm, and lingering. You wish it would linger forever on your lips.

As he unholsters his grappling hook gun, he gives you one last brush of his fingers against your cheek. You want to tell him something bubbling up inside you, but before you can decide whether or not you should, Nash shoots you a wink and zip lines down to the ground to commandeer a stray boat.

You stay on that roof until after your adventurer is no longer in sight.

You stay on that roof until after the sound of the motor is gone.

You stay on that roof until you admit to yourself that you’ve fallen head over heels in love with an extraordinary, fearless, flying-by-the-seat-of-his-pants man.

This kind of love doesn’t just happen in the pages of your novels anymore.

You’re living it.


	9. Chapter 9

You play with the tiny silver star hanging around your neck as you look out of Iris’ office. It’s the only thing you have left from your adventure to know it was real. To know Nash was real.

That, and stylized occurrences inside your newest manuscript.

Iris finishes reading your work at her desk. She turns the final page and releases an impressed exhale.

“(Y/N),” she says, “I’m not just saying this because you’re my friend, but this is by far the best book you’ve written.”

You smile graciously. “Thanks, Iris.”

“You’ve never turned in anything that quickly before, either.”

“Yeah, it just… came out, I guess.” It was pretty easy once you sat down at your laptop after everything that had happened. The words - your soul - poured out onto the page. This novel is an ode, an homage, a tribute to the man who stole nothing but your heart.

You wonder where he is now. What he’s doing. How he is.

“-And wow, I mean, that ending!” Iris continues her praise. “Where Cash sails off into the sunset, but they’re reunited when…”

You cross your arms, effectively tuning Iris out at this point. You can’t bear to hear the ending you’d written in your own ears. The obligatory happy ending. The kind that readers expect. The kind that _sells_.

“Yeah…” you say, “I guess I was inspired.”

“Well, (Y/N), this now more than ever proves you are a world-class hopeless romantic.”

“No. _Hopeful_ ,” you remind her (or is it remind yourself?). “Hopeful romantic,” your voice cuts out on you. Iris gives you a much-needed hug.

“I’m sorry to have to do this, but I have another meeting with a new client,” she informs you, at the same time not wanting your meeting to end. “Another romance writer, actually. Fresh out of the gates, too.”

“Do I know them?” you wonder aloud.

“No, but you will. Their name is Rebecca Silver.”

You’ll have to keep an eye out for this up and coming writer...

The walk home is much colder than usual. Leaves blow along the sidewalk and tumble in your path as you hunch your shoulders up at the brisk air. This day calls for a hot, celebratory beverage.

Sometimes you have this feeling that when you arrive home from an outing that you’ll be greeted with a disaster like the one that threw you into the crazy ride you’ll never forget. But it’s been months since then, and nothing of the sort has happened again. Your life is back to being peaceful and virtually uneventful.

You toss your keys onto your kitchen counter and grab a mug from the cabinet. But when you turn around, a swirling blue hole appears in the middle of the living room. You scream and grab a kitchen knife from the block to defend yourself as a reflex. _What the hell is happening?_

But what you see makes you drop the knife. It clangs loudly on your kitchen tiles.

A tall man, with rugged good-looks and gadgets strapped to his body steps through the blue hole and into your home.

And back into your heart.

“ _Nash_?!”

“It’s been a while, Princess.”

It’s him, it’s really him! And, is that an ape climbing up onto his shoulder?

“Oh my God!” you cry and run into his open arms. He holds onto you fiercely, smiling into your hair. “You’re here! What-?” You can’t even process your hundreds of thoughts properly.

“Remember our little buddy?” He motions to the bouncing gorilla, who seems to have grown a bit since you last saw him. “He’s a good little sidekick, believe it or not. His name’s Grodd.”

You hold your hand out to little Grodd for him to sniff. He makes a glad _waaahhh_ sound, so you give him a friendly scratch.

“I’ve missed you,” Nash says, pure blue eyes sparkling with such life and happiness as he watches you. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“I’ve missed you, too. So much,” you tell him. “You’re all I’ve thought about since…” He pulls back from you in your embrace, but only so that he can take you all in. It seems to be just as much of a surprise to him seeing you now.

Grodd jumps down from his shoulder to explore the foreign area.

“I read some of your books so I could have a part of you with me,” Nash divulges. “Read some of your more spicier works…”

You giggle at that, and the adventurer spins you around and officially kisses you hello. It’s similar to the way he kisses goodbye. You sigh against his dreamy pink lips, biting your own to suppress your wild smile.

“But how are you here?” you ask. “And what was that? That blue thing?”

“Ah, that would be Martin’s Trans-Dimensional Navigational System,” he explains. “He managed to harness the dark matter from the gem’s ore to create this.” Nash shows you the little circular device with a button, flipping it in his hand. “It’s a breach. A portal into other worlds. Other Earths.”

“So, there really _are_ other worlds?”

Nash presses the button on the piece of tech, initiating the glowing blue matter before you once more. He whistles to summon his animal companion, who bounds back dutifully. The adventurer offers his hand to you and grins.

“Care to find out?”

You take his hand without even a second thought.

“You better believe it.”


End file.
